More Than You Bargained For
by Jane Meurig
Summary: Jane discovers what Jack is really afraid of, but he won't accept it himself. Their paths separate as Jack attempts to run from Davy Jones and what he fears will be his own ending. Sequel to Where You Belong.
1. Key to What?

"Land, ho!"

Jack Sparrow walked across the Black Pearl to the bow where he squinted through the eerie mist to find said land. I followed him and saw it, too. Standing in the not-so-far distance, was a massive, fortified rock. Torch-lit spires jutted from it's peaks and faint screaming could be heard across the water. I heard Jack gulp, and he wrinkled his nose a bit, then walked back down to the main deck.

"I'm to go ashore," he stated, then turning to me, "alone."

I nodded in reluctant agreement, but Gibbs asked, "Capt'n? What should you be bringin' back?"

Jack interrupted, "A certain item of value, Mr. Gibbs. Any more questions?"

The crew didn't shake their heads, but they would have if they could move.

We heaved a dinghy into the water, he climbed down and as the little boat was disconnected from the ship, I whispered to him, "Good luck."

"I'm gonna need it."

And we waited. Jack had the keys to the rum cellar, so we only had what was already on deck, and Gibbs drank most of it. Thunder sounded somewhere above the clouds as they swirled in the wind that rocked the ship as well. The ship creaked but the anchor held fast. Some nervous bug was creeping through the crew's minds. They wanted real treasure. Jack was busy with something else, and he wouldn't tell anyone what, not even me.

So time passed and near middle of the night, a bell tolled. Then a gunshot was heard nearby. The crew rushed on deck, and soon enough a little figure paddled his way toward the ship. When he got closer I could see he was sitting in some sort of long box. Jack pulled up to the ship and when Gibbs offered him a hand, Jack handed him a gnarled leg all skin and bones. He had been sitting in a coffin, goodness knows why.

"Not exactly according to plan," Gibbs stated with some disgust and bewilderment at the twisted thing he carried.

As Cotton put Jack's coat over his shoulders, the captain briefly explained, "Complications arose, ensued, were overcome."

Gibbs handed Cotton the leg, followed the captain toward the bow and asked hopefully, "You got what you went in for, then?"

"Mm-hm." Jack pulled out a rolled piece of cloth from his belt and shook it in the air for all to see, then turning around the main mast realized his mistake. He was face to face with a crew full of not-so-happy faces. I walked from the rail to his right shoulder, while Gibbs took the left.

Gibbs started, "Captain, I think the crew, meaning me as well, were expecting something a bit more...shiny. What with the Isla de Muerta going all pear-shaped and reclaimed by the sea and the treasure with it."

"And the Royal Navy chasing us all around the Atlantic," Moises added.

"And the hurricane," Marty threw in.

"Aye," the rest chorused.

Gibbs concluded, "All in all it seems some time since we did a speck of honest pirating."

Jack considered his situation a bit grim, and even from behind I saw the light bulb go up in his head. He turned to Gibbs, "Shiny."

He answered, "Aye, shiny."

"Is that how you're all feeling, then? That perhaps dear old Jack is not serving your best interests as captain?"

Everyone was silent for a second, perhaps in fear, until Cotton's parrot squawked, "Walk the plank."

Jack cocked his gun and with some insanity in his voice shouted with the gun at the parrot, "What did the bird say?"

"Do not blame the bird," Moises insisted, "Show us what is on that piece of cloth, there."

Almost instantly the monkey swung down from the rigging and screamed. Jack screamed and tried to shoot it but he didn't have any shot in his gun. The skeletal monkey screeched again and grabbed the cloth straight from his hand, and it ran. Jack snatched someone else's gun and shot the monkey so it dropped the cloth.

Gibbs told him, "You know that don't do know good," as if Jack didn't know any better.

"It does me," he answered.

Marty scuttled over and picked it up, stating, "It's a key."

"No," Jack contradicted, "Much more better." He took the cloth from Marty and held it up, explaining, "It is a drawing of a key."

I rolled my eyes. If there was such thing as chronic insanity, Jack had it. If he wanted the crew to trust him, this wasn't how to do it. It's why there was ever a mutiny in the first place. I leaned against the main mast, not as interested, but still listening.

The crew walked forward, staring at the opened piece of yellowed, torn cloth. Jack looked a little nervous, but I doubted the crew noticed. "Gentleman," he said, drawing them into his trap word by word, "What do keys do?"

"Keys...unlock things?" Moises answered somewhat hesitantly.

"And whatever this key unlocks, inside there's something valuable," Gibbs hoped, rubbing his fingers together. "So we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks."

Jack grinned and stated flatly, "No." Gibbs looked confused, so Jack explained, "If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is we don't have that this key unlocks. So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it?"

Gibbs stumbled over a few thoughts then finally asked, thinking he'd finally gotten it, "So we're going after this key!"

"You're not making any sense at all." Gibbs looked even more disappointed, but Jack asked, "Any more questions?"

Marty, behind him, asked, "So...do we have a heading?"

It seemed there was finally a reasonable question, and I went to Jack's right shoulder again. "Ha! A heading." Jack pulled out his compass and started, "Set sail in a..." he paused with his finger in the air, and wrinkled his nose, continuing with his finger wandering around in circles, "...general..." he paused again, then finally chose something, and with as much firmness as he could muster ordered, "that way direction."

"Captain?" Gibbs asked perplexed.

Jack waved his hands around and went on, "Come on, snap to and make sail, you know how this works. Go on. Oi, oi, oi!" He walked off toward the stern, and I hung behind next to the main mast.

Marty and Gibbs looked over the rail. "Have you noticed lately," Marty looked at Gibbs, "the captain seems to be acting a bit strange," Gibbs turned, and Marty shrugged, "...er?"

Gibbs nodded. "Setting sail without knowing his own heading. Something's got Jack vexed, and mark my words what bodes ill for Jack Sparrow bodes ill for us all."

If Gibbs noticed, so did they all. Jack was in trouble, and it was clear as day. I quietly walked to the stern, quietly enough that Jack didn't see me right away, and I came up behind him. "So how'd you come across this piece of cloth with a drawing of a key, which you don't know where it is or what it unlocks? Your compass led you to it?"

Jack turned around, shouting "Ah!" Then he answered, "Maybe."

"Jack, you went into a fortified castle of death on a godforsaken rock, to find and retrieve a _drawing_ of a key. Now we have to find the key, and the crew doesn't know what you're really running after." Jack frowned and lifted an eyebrow. I mouthed, "Oh," as a realization came to me, and asked, "Or is it what you're running from?"

"I'm not running away from anything," Jack lied.

"It's been thirteen years. I hope you're ready." I walked away without giving him a chance to respond. I just made him sit there and think about it as he stood staring at the flashing sky.


	2. Running

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean, only my original character.

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**A/N:** This chapter was long in coming. It took a while for me to get satisfied with the conversation at the end. When she changes her mind it's especially hard to write. But I think I like it now. I'm now working on chapter 3 which will be more original material and less narrating the movie.

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"Why is the rum always gone?" Jack asked himself. I rolled my eyes from my seat in the corner where I was whittling a compass rose into a small piece of wood. He stood up and nearly lost his balance, then realized aloud, "Oh. That's why."

I would have laughed if he hadn't looked the way he did while figuring over his map. I'd seen him tapping his compass and it was obvious he didn't know where we were going, or at least if we kept going in the direction we were, it wouldn't lead us anywhere nice.

Jack picked up his hat and coat and walked out, I assumed to get more rum. My rose was coming along when I heard Jack outside shouting, "On deck, all hands! Make fast the bunt gasket! On deck! Scurry! Scurry! I want movement! Movement! I want movement! Lift the skin up! Keep your loof! Haul those sheets!" I put down my carving and walked out the cabin to find all hands scurrying over the deck with Captain Jack still shouting orders. "Run them! Run! Keep running! Run as if the devil himself and itself is upon us!"

Gibbs ran around the opposite side of the main mast from Jack and asked, "Do we have a heading?"

Jack turned and jumped. "Agh! Run! Land." Jack ducked down to hide.

Gibbs went around the mast and Jack came up from hiding and they both jumped back when they saw each other. "Which port?" Gibbs asked.

Jack answered quickly, "I didn't say 'port,' I said 'land.' Any land." The monkey swung down on a rope and snatched his hat. "Agh!" The monkey climbed up some rigging and screeched at Jack, who hissed back, then it threw his hat overboard.

Everyone ran and leaned over the rail as Gibbs shouted, "Jack's hat! Bring her about!"

"No, no! Leave it." When Jack ordered it, the whole crew turned and stared at him astonished. "Run." And he ran and hid again.

Gibbs shouted back to them, "Back to your stations, the lot of you!" He peered around the steps to the upper stern deck, and found Jack hiding in their shadow against the wall. "Jack?" he whispered.

"Shh." Jack stared up through the confines of his hiding place.

"For the love of mother and child, Jack, what's coming after us?" Gibbs asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Nothing," he lied, and shook his head to reassure himself.

Gibbs turned and helped the crew, and I was still standing in front of the captain's cabin door. I looked at Jack, and he screamed and ran into his cabin. I followed him in, and shut the door. "Jack?"

He turned around with a scrunched up look on his face and flinched, then started running around the room looking for something. I noticed his left hand in a fist, and he found what he was looking for. He wrapped a piece of scrap cloth around his hand and I knew he was hiding something. I came up behind him and asked suspiciously, "What's on your hand?"

"Nothing," he lied again.

I grabbed it and he tried to pull it away, but I held it tighter. I unwrapped it and nearly fell over at what I saw. I can't say I wasn't expecting it, but I hadn't known the black spot would look so gruesome. Writhing black ink covered most of the palm of his hand, and I shivered at the thought of what it felt like to bear it.

Jack flinched again and this time when he pulled his hand away, I let go. "I knew he was coming. I even warned you." I paused and he flinched at the almost-glare I gave him, but I couldn't actually glare since I was already feeling a million different things just from thinking about him being chased by every sailor's worst fear. I tried to think of something else, so I asked, "Who did he send? Or did he—"

"Bootstrap."

"Bill Turner...he joined Jones' crew? I'd hoped he wouldn't, but...I see he did."

"He looked bloody awful."

"Well, he's practically been eaten up by the sea. I'm not surprised."

Jack scratched his chin and there was a short, awkward silence. Then I had to ask. I realized what it was I had to say, and what I needed to hear him say. I shouldn't have changed the topic in the first place, but I changed it back quickly enough. "Jack, you know you have the same fate. Now you've got the spot, the Kraken will find you. What are you going to do?"

"Run." He walked around me toward the door and nearly went back outside.

I stopped him, saying, "You can't run forever, Jack. You can't last that long running from Davy Jones. This is the _Flying Dutchman_ we're talking about."

Jack turned and licked his lips nervously, then answered slowly and hesitantly, "We kill his terrible beastie?"

I raised my eyebrows wondering how on earth he believed he could do that, though knowing from the sound of his voice, he didn't believe he could. But I saw something else churning in his brain, and brought my eyebrows down again to focus as I said it. "The Kraken isn't all you intend to kill, is it?" Jack opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself and stared at the floor. I stepped closer and pulled the rolled up piece of cloth with a drawing of a key out of his belt. "And that's what this is for." He half-heartedly tried to take it back, but I held it out of his reach, and he pulled his hand back. If he'd have tried harder to get it back, he would have.

Jack went back out to the deck and I stayed inside, staring at this key. No, a drawing of a key. It used to be far too easy to figure out what Jack wanted, but now he wasn't sure of that himself. I knew he was afraid, and it scared me a little. And I knew what he was going to try to do, but I couldn't figure out if he wanted it. Staring at that key made me feel like things were even more out of my hands. I thought I had the key to Jack's mind, I knew him so well. But I must have lost it somewhere. And if I didn't find the key, pretty soon he'd lose his mind as well.


End file.
